The way he’s looking at Blaze sends chills erupting all over my skin. Blaze opens his mouth to say something, but Mal cuts him off, holding up a hand. “Unh, unh, unh.” He ticks his pointer finger from side-to-side—No, no, no—the way a mother would to a toddler. “Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’m not here for you.” His eyes twinkle with something unreadable. “Not yet, anyway.”
He directs his stare toward me, and I brace myself for a fight, glaring right back into his dark, empty soul. “I’m not letting you anywhere near Liam, and Blaze has nothing to do with this.”
Mal cocks his head to the side and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He slowly straightens his head then tilts it to the opposite side as though he’s inspecting me, studying me, searching for something. It’s creepy as fuck. I’ve seen a lot of monsters in my life, but I’ve never been more terrified of anything than I am of this man right now. Still, I’ll be damned if I let him know that.
He laughs, and it’s not like the laugh of a child or the deep rumble of someone you love. It’s maniacal. His eyes cut to Blaze. “You mean you haven’t told her about me?” He taps his index finger against his lips. “Hmm. That’s too bad.” He’s playing with us like a lion toys with a mouse. “You owe me a life, Blaze.” He looks back at me. “And I’m about to collect.”
My heart thumps so hard and loud it’s almost impossible to hear anything else. I feel the blood drain from my face. What in the actual fuck is happening here? Bile rises in my throat, but I swallow it back down. The air around us is suffocating. I want to speak, but the words get lodged in my throat. Hector is standing a few feet away, watching the whole thing in silence. I didn’t even notice him walk up. His fists are clenched at his sides, and his eyes are zeroed in on Mal’s every move.
Blaze glances at Hector and shakes his head. It’s subtle, but Hector must understand the meaning because he unclenches his fists. Blaze moves his attention back to Mal. He closes the distance between them in one long stride, stopping inches before they’re chest-to-chest. “You want to fuck with me? Fine. Take your best shot.” He spreads his arms open wide and pins Mal with his stare. “Yeah, I owe you a life.” He brings one hand to his chest, slamming against it. “Mine.” Tension pours off him, and there’s not a flicker of fear in his voice. “Go ahead. Kill me. I probably deserve it. I won’t even fight you on it. But if you lay a finger on Adrienne, I swear to Christ I will fuck you up.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. That. Is. Fucking. So.”
“Well, then…”
Mal swings his fist, lunging at Blaze and connecting his right hook with a sickening crunch. Blaze stumbles backward but doesn’t swing back. Why isn’t he fighting back? Instead he lifts his head and looks up at Mal with a smile. Mal rears back and punches him again, once in the stomach then again in the face. Blaze falls against one of the tall bar tables, sending it tipping over and crashing against the one next to it. Then he crashes into a wall.
I’m just standing here with one hand over my mouth and tears threatening to spill from my eyes. Frozen. Motionless. With all these conflicting emotions swirling around inside. I know Mal has a gun. I saw it earlier. I don’t see it now, but there’s no way a guy like him would pick a fight without it.
Blaze pushes himself off the wall and stands in front of Mal, staring him down, waiting for another blow. I want to yell at him, to scream fight back, you fucker. But I don’t. I can’t. My words are caught in my throat. My voice is a whisper.
Blood trickles down his cheek and drops off his chin from a cut over his eye. He gasps for air but makes no move to defend himself. All I want to do is run to him and take him out of here. I’m about to do just that when two cops rush in and do it for me. One of them, I recognize. The other, I don’t. The strange cop takes Mal, shoves him face-first against the wall and pins his arms behind his back as he pulls a set of cuffs from his waistband. Jake walks over to Blaze, and my heart drops.
I walk up behind them and plead to Jake with my eyes. “You can’t take him to jail. He didn’t do anything.”
His jaw tics as he studies me then lets out a sigh. “Get him the fuck out of here.”
“That guy. The one your partner has—”
Jake’s gaze softens, and he lowers his voice. “I know who he is.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “Go home, Addy. I’ll take care of it.”
I convinced Hector into letting me bring Blaze home. Part of me was still worried someone might follow me. I know it’s stupid, but I also wasn’t naÏve enough to believe Mal was at Shooters alone. Someone saw everything that happened, and chances are they’ll want revenge.
The bar owner gave Blaze a towel for the blood. I’m not a doctor, but I’d say he needs a few stitches. Underneath his cut eye, his cheek is starting to swell and bruise. It looks painful.
He holds the towel to his head and stares out the window. “So, your friend is a cop. How fortunate.”
Are we really playing the jealous game right now?
A call comes over my Bluetooth. Brody’s name flashes on the screen. I’ll text him later. I’m sure Jake filled him on everything he needs to know for now. I’ll tell him the rest once my blood pressure levels out.
“You gonna get that?” Blaze asks.
“Nope.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair and leans his head back against the seat. “What the fuck were you thinking, Adrienne? Standing up to a guy twice your size? What if I wouldn’t have been there?” He blows out a long breath then turns his head to me. “Jesus, do the words self-preservation mean anything at all to you?”
My eyes snap to his. “Me? You’re coming at me?” I look back at the road, hating the fact that I just raised my voice. That’s something my mother used to do. I swore I would never be like her. “You didn’t even try to fight back. Why don’t we talk about that? Or maybe we could talk about how you even know a guy like Mal or what all that cryptic ‘I owe you a life’ bullshit was about.”
He drops his hands to his lap, towel and all. “You first.”
“Oh, we’re playing that game?” I shot back.
No answer. Fine. It looks like we’re doing this.
“His name is Mal, and he’s the reason Liam started the fire at the brewery. It was some kind of initiation.” Although after what just happened, I’m beginning to feel like the target wasn’t random. “He came to the house today and apparently didn’t like what I had to say. I guess he wanted to let me know I pissed him off.” I rub my fingers across my brow to ward off an impending headache. “He’s not a nice guy, and I won’t let Liam get mixed up with him.”
“Even if it means risking your own safety?” His deep voice is softer now.
“Yes, even if it means risking my own safety. I would do anything to protect these kids. Anything.”
“Fuck, you’re impossible.”
I shrug and cut him a glance. “Your turn.”
“Yeah, well, mine’s a little more complicated than that.”
“I’m a smart girl. Try me.”
He looks over at me with those eyes, eyes that say everything and nothing at the same time. “You don’t want inside my head, Adrienne. It’s too dark for you.”
I deal with dark every damn day. I lived in the dark for eighteen years. Darkness has no power over me.
“If I was afraid of the dark, I would never get to see the stars shine.”
He snaps his neck to the side then back again. Then he blows out a stuttered breath. For a second, I worry he’s not going to tell me. Then he speaks. “When I was ten years old, I knew this kid. Micah. We were best friends. Lived down the street from each other.” Something catches in his voice. I try to focus on the road, but all I want to do is look at him. “One night, he invited me for a sleepover. We slept over at each other’s houses all the time. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But that night, my dad was out late with a client… or one of his playthings… Who the fuck knows? Either way, my mother was drinking. I hated
when she drank like that because I was always afraid she’d go to sleep and not wake up.” I flinch because I know that feeling all too well. “So, I asked Micah to come to my house instead. His mom said no, which was weird because she never said no.”
What does any of this have to do with Mal or the fight at the bar?
“A few hours later I heard sirens and saw all these flashing lights down the street.” He flinches like he’s seeing it all again for the first time. His hand grips the top of his thigh and clenches it tight. He stares straight ahead, the air leaving his lungs in slow, controlled breaths. It’s an exercise he’s obviously used to practicing. His next words come out sharp and rushed, like the act of saying them burns his tongue. “Micah’s dad came home and caught his mom trying to leave. He shot her then shot himself. Micah went into foster care, and I never saw him again.” His voice is strained. “Until tonight. Until just now. It’s been fourteen years, but I would know his face anywhere.”
His eyes drift shut. There’s so much pain, so much raw emotion. Words won’t fix it, so I don’t even try. My heart shatters for him, for Mal—or Micah—for two lives enslaved to pain. I fight to find a single breath. I try to swallow, but my throat is too thick. This man, this beautiful, strong, unbreakable man, is so very broken.
“That guy back there… His name isn’t Mal. It’s Micah, and not a day goes by that I don’t wonder if I’d just spent the night… Maybe his mom wouldn’t have tried to leave. No one takes their kid and leaves their husband when a friend is there watching.”
His brown eyes are on me, dark and full of guilt and unshed tears. I can’t force myself to look away. I need to. I just can’t. I’m trapped here, trapped in his pain.
Blaze breaks the silence. “So, no. I didn’t fight back. Because I owed him that.” He doesn’t cry, but I hear the shake in his voice, the strain in his words.
That’s when I feel the crack, the break in my hard exterior, the portal to my soul opening up and calling him inside.
“It wasn’t your fault. His mother would’ve just chosen another day to leave. You can’t do this to yourself, Blaze. You can’t keep carrying this guilt.”
The cut above his eye is oozing blood down his cheek again, so he brings the towel back to his face. He winces when it touches him. “You saw him. You felt it. The anger. The rage of a life stolen. Who knows what kind of hell he’s been living in all these years?”
“Did you forget who I am? What I do? Everyone has a choice. Even Micah. Foster care isn’t a death sentence.” I’m living proof of that. “At least it doesn’t have to be.” I pause to think about the boys and the futures ahead of them. “But yes, I saw him. I felt it. And that’s why I dedicate everything I am to Corporate Cares. I want to make a difference. I want to be the change.”
He reaches across the console, letting his hand rest on top of mine. His thumb brushes my skin. “You’re an incredible woman, and they’re all lucky to have you.”
A few minutes later, we pull up at my apartment because right now I don’t want to be alone, and I have a feeling he doesn’t either.
I put the car in park. “You should come inside and let me look at that cut.”
“So, first we’re Bonnie and Clyde. Now we’re playing doctor?”
Cute. Real freaking cute. Cute never made my ovaries tingle until now.
I open the door and climb out. “Are you coming in or are you just going to sit there all night?”
I swear I hear him mumble, “I’m definitely coming.”
Blaze follows me all the way to my front door, bracing himself in the frame before he comes inside. My entire body is humming with nervous energy. This. This feeling, this energy. This is what they call chemistry. It has to be. We both know exactly what this means, rational thought be damned. We’re running on chemistry now. I lift my eyes to look at him. He’s gorgeous, jaw-droppingly so. Even with a bruised cheek and bloody eye.
“I know you invited me in, and believe me, I will kick myself in the nuts for walking away, but that’s exactly what I should do.” He licks his lips. His tongue moves slow and deliberate over his bottom lip.
God, that lip.
God, that tongue.
His eyes sweep over my face. “Because if I step through this door—if I get one fucking foot inside—I’m going to end up fucking you. Then I’m going to fuck you again. And again. Every chance I get until there’s nothing left of either one of us.” His gaze falls to my lips, then to my cleavage, down my stomach and back up again. “You ready for that?”
I swallow hard and clench my thighs because I have no doubt he means every word he says. “I’m ready.”
Am I ready?
Is he kidding?
Does a bear shit in the woods?
Yes. A thousand times yes. I’ve been ready since he wrote on my hand at the police station.
It’s like a switch has flipped and suddenly my hands are all over him. His hands are all over me. I am aching. Aching like I’ve never ached before.
He grips my hips and walks me backward until the wall stops us. “I need you, Adrienne. More than I’ve ever needed anything. But tomorrow morning when you wake up and—”
I stop him with a finger over his lips. “Don’t. I’m not worried about tomorrow.”
There’s only tonight. Tonight, we share the same pain. Tonight, we speak the same language.
He brings his hand up my neck and to the side of my face. “The world, our world, is going to crumble after this.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time my world has crumbled. I think I can handle it.”
He smiles. “I know you can.” His eyes lock with mine. “You are so fucking perfect,” he says. Then he cups my ass with both hands and hoists me up against the wall. I swing my legs up and cinch them around his waist, and I feel it. His length against my core, hard and massive, and holy fuck. Holy fuuuuuck. I want him. I want all of him. I want everything, and he hasn’t even done anything to me yet.
He lowers his head and brushes his lips over mine. “I’m going to kiss you now. You good with that?”
My eyes flutter closed as I moan my response. “Mmhmm.”
He parts my lips with his tongue then kisses me. Like a match kisses gasoline. A fire sparks, and my fingers tangle in his hair. Tugging. Pulling. Wanting. Needing. He grinds his hips against mine and deepens the kiss. It’s sensual and possessive and completely intoxicating. His hands move to my waist then slip inside my shirt. His fingers dig into my skin like he’s trying to open me up and find his way inside. My back arches into him, and he makes this sound, this feral, hungry sound then presses himself against me harder. He’s dry fucking me against my living room wall, and I am lost. Completely gone.
Slowly, as if it physically hurts him to do it, he pulls his mouth away. After several deep breaths, I unwrap my legs from his waist, and he lowers me to the floor. He leans in until we’re forehead to forehead, nose to nose, mouth to mouth. This is my new favorite place to be, breathing him in. I don’t even care about the blood on his face. His hot breath warms my skin, and he smiles. Smiles. God, that smile. I feel it against my own. He smells like soap and leather… and man. All man. This scent, his scent, is crack. I’m addicted to it. Strung out. I can’t think straight.
“I want you to fucking scream,” he whispers against my mouth.
“I want you to make me.”
He breathes in slowly through his nose, closing his eyes as though he’s savoring the feel of this. “Jesus Christ, Adrienne.” Then he straightens up and pushes my hair away from my face. “Hold up your arms.”
I lift my arms, and he pulls off my shirt and throws it to the floor. He runs his finger under the edge of my bra, barely brushing my nipple. His hand glides over my ribs and across my stomach then lower. Gentle, but not in a timid way. More like he’s holding back, reining himself in.
“You don’t have to be careful,” I tell him.
“You couldn’t handle me any other way.”
“Try me.”
I close my eyes when he unfastens the button on my shorts then grabs my zipper. A million butterflies swarm in my stomach, and my heart hammers in my chest as he begins to pull it down. He slides both hands inside my shorts, then over my hips, around to my ass. An appreciative growl echoes deep in his throat when he squeezes hard with both hands. I lean my head back, and Blaze licks a trail up the column of my neck, stopping below my ear to bite the sensitive skin there. My long hair tickles the bare skin on my back. He pushes my shorts down until they fall to the floor, and I kick them to the side.
Taking me by the ass, he lifts me up and carries me across the room to set me on the table behind my sofa. A candle falls on the sofa then rolls off onto the floor with a crash.
Blaze winces. “Shit. Sorry.”
I cup his cheeks, bringing his attention back where it belongs. “Forget it.” We could break every candle I own, and I wouldn’t give one single fuck right now.
“I’ll buy you a new one. Fuck, I’ll buy you a hundred new ones.”
“Blaze.” I kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’m not worried about the fucking candle.”
His eyes flash, and he smirks. Like he’s proud of something. Then I realize it’s the first time he’s ever heard me say the word fuck after I gave him so much grief about it the first night we met. He likes it. I like that he likes it.
He pushes my knees apart, spreading my legs wide and taking me all in. His fingers trace the slit between my wet folds. His lips part as he pinches my clit, soft at first, then harder. Tiny bolts of electricity shoot from my stomach all the way to my toes. He’s staring at me with raw fascination. Then his breath falters, and he shudders. Like I’m making him weak. Like touching me is the air that keeps him alive. I have never felt so worshiped.
He reaches for my right hand, bringing it to meet his. “Touch yourself.”
With his hand flat on top of mine, I rub my clit. He sucks in a breath then groans. I throw my head back and increase the pressure. He presses his hand harder on mine then pushes my finger inside me.
Blaze: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World) Page 11
